


Queens

by Fire_Bear



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Kings & Queens, Knights - Freeform, M/M, Magic, chessverse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-01-06 03:26:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21219788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Bear/pseuds/Fire_Bear
Summary: The courts of the kingdoms hold great power, from the rooks to the bishops, the knights to the kings. But none are as powerful as the queens. Anyone with the magical power levels of a queen is highly sought after in the courts. They are coveted, revered, feared, hated, loved - and trapped.There was once a kingdom that held four queens, some hidden, others known.





	1. Two Steps Forward

**Author's Note:**

> I'm... starting another story I probably will fail to update for months at a time. ^^" But I've really, really wanted to do a story for the Foxes, so here I am with a... loosely... Halloweenish thing.
> 
> I have a sparse amount of tags because I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this, but I did know how it starts so I wanted to get it out there.
> 
> P.S. For people wondering, NanoWrimo is starting in a few days and I'll be doing that instead of fan fiction, so... Here I go being MIA for a month.

Neil’s magic had worn off at the worst possible moment.

He had never expected to be in the same vicinity as any of his father’s pawns, not after he and his mother had managed to travel back and forth across several kingdoms, but the luck they had been hoarding had evidently ran out. Maybe it had run out when Mary had died. Or his father had used his new queen’s powers to find him.

Whatever the reason, there had been a fight in a tavern and now this. A stolen horse surged under him, driven to the brink. Neil had never wanted to harm a horse like this, riding without pause or break, but his father’s pawns hadn’t stopped either, riding night and day to keep just a few furlongs behind. Now, their horses were lagging.

It didn’t help that they were currently riding through a storm. The road had become muddied as rain lashed down on them, stinging against the cut on Neil’s cheek - he had dodged in time to prevent it being serious and it would be invisible within a few days, but it still provided pain. His legs ached from being in the saddle for two entire days. Lack of sleep made his head pound. Old wounds cried out for attention, a reminder of what would happen if he were to slip.

Above them, thunder roared, never-ending. Lightning flashed. Underneath him, Neil’s horse let out a cry. Mud splashed. Trees waved their branches; behind him, there was a crash and a glance back told Neil that his luck was holding. Between him and his pursuers, a fallen branch had almost separated Neil from his steed.

A few precious moments later and he was separated, regardless. With another cry, his horse slipped in the rain and both horse and rider were soon on the ground. Only Neil’s quick reflexes cleared him of the horse's heavy body and he scrambled to his feet, covered in mud. Gritting his teeth, Neil pushed his hair from his eyes and watched as the horse breathed heavily, clearly unable to get up. Behind him, the horses that followed still pounded onwards, closing his lead.

There was no other choice. With a silent apology to his horse, Neil grabbed his saddlebags and slung them over his shoulder. Picking up his sword from where it had broken free from the bundle, he shoved it through his belt. Then, with another check that he’d picked up everything important, Neil turned from the road and headed into the forest.

As soon as he plunged into the trees, the branches and twigs added to the cuts on his hands and face. The foliage was dense here, all the trees close together. Neil was careful, aware of soggy leaves and muddy earth beneath his feet. Not only that, but he had to keep pausing to try to cover his tracks. If he got far enough from the road without leaving any, he might be able to evade the pawns. And he was sure he was close to the border of another kingdom - if he got across it, maybe their knights would turn the pawns back.

Thunder rumbled overhead and lightning flashed above him. He flinched, not from the noise, but from the fact that it was more likely that he would be seen. The crashing noises behind him confirmed his fears and he picked up the pace, spending less time on covering his tracks. Neil hoped there would be a river somewhere along his way; if he could survive its tumultuous waters, he might be able to swim downstream and come out some distance away.

Unfortunately for Neil, he had no such luck. The pawns behind him still followed. There was little light to see by and only the flashes of lightning provided him with glimpses of towering trees. Overhead, the clouds shifted and the thunder moved. A disturbed squirrel scampered away from Neil’s approach as he grew more frantic.

He was growing tired.

Knowing he would have to stop and fight at some point, Neil reached down to make sure his sword was still at his hip. Reassured, he pushed on, hoping there would be a clearing or a larger space so he could manoeuvre. But there were only the trees, dense and imposing. Thankfully, they were not helping the pawns either, if the cursing and the slashing noises Neil could hear over the rain were any indication.

It also told him that they were finally closing the gap.

Neil thought of his mother. She had been cut by a well-timed thrust after a chase much like this one. Neither of them had thought it was particularly serious until she had collapsed. She had been trying to take him across the sea to the country she had once come from. But the captain of the ship wouldn’t take Neil after she was gone and Mary had told him never to use his magic except for disguises. If he did, he would be found, he would be snatched, he would share his mother’s fate.

And so he battled on, though he was beginning to think that this was the end of the road.

_ Survive_, she had told him.

Depending on how many men were actually chasing him through the trees, he might be able to take them on. His mother had been adamant that he keep up his sword training, keep his skills honed. From what he had seen of the men following him, there were five, but only one seemed to be the sort to be any threat. The rest were likely thugs, dressed up to look the part of competent fighters, but likely only skilled in powerful hits. If Neil could keep out of their reach…

Suddenly, the trees disappeared and Neil found himself facing a meadow or plain. He couldn't tell in the dark, only that there were no obstructions. Riders moved along a road in the distance, bent over their horses' heads to battle the storm. Behind him, his pursuers grew ever closer. If he could make the road, he could figure out where he was, could find a way to acquire a new horse, maybe even ask for help- No, he couldn't trust that those figures in the distance would help him.

Regardless of his lack of a horse, Neil still needed to move. The men behind him were growing ever closer as the noises behind him grew louder. Thunder still drowned them out, but it was growing fainter and sounded less frequently. Neil glanced upward and raindrops hit his face, reminding him that he was still alive and that he had to run to stay that way.

He took off across the grass, ignoring the moments when he slipped and his good balance was the only thing keeping him upright. Neil kept his eyes on the road, aiming for it in the straightest route possible. That was his downfall. Despite the meadow being a gentle slope, there were hidden pockets of ground that had sunk down and hidden rocks. Whatever did it, Neil's boot hit it hard and, with the speed he was running at, he was sent tumbling to the ground. In the same instant, Neil heard a shout behind him, along with the pounding of feet – and hooves. He looked behind him in alarm and was horrified to see that at least two of the men had gone around the forest, driving their horses hard to catch up with him. The men on foot weren't as far behind as Neil had hoped they were.

Grunting, Neil scrambled to his feet, propelling himself forward before he'd even straightened. His clothes were soaked and it was uncomfortable to move, but he ignored that. Instead, he grabbed his bags and hurried onwards, slipping and sliding as he gained speed. Unfortunately, as he had thought, it wasn't enough. The pawns on the horses galloped ahead of him and pulled their horses around to cut him off. Neil skidded to a stop, doing so just in time to not slam into them. He turned and found himself face to face with the other men, trapped between them.

Without hesitation, Neil drew his sword and held it before him with two hands in a tight grip. Rain still fell on them and stuck Neil's hair to his head. One strand, in fact, had fallen in front of his eye and he wished he could relax enough to push it out of his way. Instead, he twisted until he found a position where he could keep all of his opponents in sight. They weren't pleasant to behold, each one of them sneering at him.

“Calm down, boy,” said one of them, looking rather unconcerned. “We're only here to take you home.”

“What home?” asked Neil, his attention moving to and fro.

“Your father wants to see you,” one of the men on foot said.

“I'm sure he'll be disappointed when I don't turn up,” Neil commented.

“Stubborn little boy, aren't ya?” another man piped up.

“We'll just have to beat that out of you,” one of the horsemen informed him.

That seemed to be the signal to start the fight that had been a long time coming. Neil twisted in the direction of a flash of metal, bringing up his sword to expertly parry the blow. In the same instant, he slung his saddlebags off his shoulder and into the arm of one of the other attackers. The heaviness of it – everything he owned – crashed into the man's wrist and forced him to drop his weapon. Then Neil had to swing to block another attack. And another. And another.

There was no end to them. They came from every direction. Neil was alone and exhausted and aching: the men seemed invigorated, eager to please their king. Where Neil was fast, the men were stronger, and they easily pushed him back. Thunder rumbled above them, but the sounds of swords clashing drowned it out.

Eventually, the inevitable happened – Neil's sword slipped from his wet hands. He fumbled with it, but it wobbled and plunged downwards, sticking into the ground before one of the men kicked it over and away from him. Neil stared down at it, aware that one line of defence had been stripped away. Then he found himself looking at sword points, three of them bristling with the potential to kill him. Frozen, Neil watched them move closer, within the reach of his sword, if he still had it.

“Looks like pretty boy here has had enough,” said one of the pawns, grinning widely.

“Did His Majesty want him without scars?” another asked, clearly unaware of the ones Neil already had.

Neil took a step back, desperately trying to work out a way to leave. Thunder rolled, further than ever. Rain still beat down on them, though Neil could no longer feel it, as cold and wet as he was. The pawns were ignoring it as well, though they noticed his movements. One of them stepped forward and grabbed his arm.

“He'll be good company,” he said, grinning smugly. Neil could see his crooked teeth.

“No,” said Neil, trying to pry the man's hand off. It was the first time he'd been caught by his father's pawns in years and it terrified him. “Stop. Let _ go _!” He yanked at his arm and managed to pull free of the man's grip, though he stumbled right into another one. Their hands were everywhere and all he could think of was the fact that he was trapped, caught, dead. “I'll kill you!” he shouted, a warning.

“I don't think you'll be doing that, now, will ya?” said the man who had hands on both of Neil's arms.

But Neil had no other option. If his mother was here, they could have worked together to kill them and run. However, Neil was alone and, with no weapon and no way out, he could do only one thing. His mother had forbidden it. She had told him only to use his powers to change his looks, taught him how to perfectly change his hair and eye colour, told him the importance of replenishing it every few days despite how taxing the spells were. Everything else, she had left him to learn on his own, in secret. And, anything he didn't know, he got by on willpower alone.

So, when the men began to crowd him, and his captor's hands travelled down his body, Neil closed his eyes and concentrated, willing the men to leave, to disappear, to be flung back, to _ die, their heads cut off_. Startled at the direction his thoughts had taken, Neil's eyes flew open, just in time to see the crookedly-toothed man's head tumble from his shoulders. He felt the power pulse through him as the other men cried out.

With them suitably distracted, Neil wriggled against his captor, trying to get free. Unfortunately, the man's grip held, pulling him back against the pawn's body. Neil struggled, but he could still feel the power coursing through him, usually buried so deep... So, he used it. A scream pierced through him as fire suddenly enveloped the pawn's arms, starting at the hands. The man immediately let go of Neil and stumbled backwards. Neil was quick to scramble away from him, looking for his sword. With two of them out of the picture, he could take on the others without his powers.

Just as he thought that, Neil heard the sound of hooves moving closer. There was no way he could fight them off with reinforcements. A lucky, faint flash of lightning showed Neil where his things were. He scooped up his sword and turned back to the men, sidling towards his bags. If he could hold them off long enough to grab them and go…

“You little-” growled one of the men, raising his sword.

Thunder once again sounded, covering up the noises of horses and men cursing and the clash of the man's sword against another's. Neil stilled, confused as the reinforcements... engaged with the men. In fact, it was only two riders, both of them in armour with cloaks to shield themselves from the rain. Their horses were powerful and charged into the middle of the group. Swords out, the two engaged the pawns, beating them back. The pawns' horses shied away from them, moving closer to Neil who quickly grabbed one and pulled it towards his bags, though he kept an eye on the situation, wondering who the newcomers were.

“Keep outta this!” one of the pawns yelled. “This has got nowt to do with you!”

“I think you'll find that this has got everything to do with us,” one of the new riders said, their voice deep and commanding of respect. Neil felt a shiver run down his spine and immediately surmised that that rider was a queen or one that would be a queen. “You are making trouble, in _ our _ kingdom.”

“So, stop, or we'll make sure you learn your lesson,” said the other rider, sounding bored.

That was when Neil reached his bags and, once he'd hefted them over the back of the horse (after depositing the pawn's bags haphazardly on the ground), Neil pulled himself onto the horse. There were shouts and a commotion behind him, but Neil didn't pay them any heed. Instead, he dug his heels into the horse and the animal started into motion. However, the horse was just as exhausted as Neil's had been and, though it tried, its strides were short and pace slow. He just had to _ leave_, to _ run_-

Pain suddenly burst from the back of his shoulder. His weight fell forward and the horse slowed before coming to a standstill. Neil pushed himself upright and, using his good hand, reached over his shoulder to feel for a weapon. It felt like a knife, lodged deeply. No doubt it would leave another scar. He wondered if the pawns had gained the upper hand and turned in the saddle to see, perhaps due to a bout of misplaced compassion.

Instead, the people coming towards him were the two riders who had interfered. One of them galloped past his horse so they could block his way, while the other boxed him in. From what Neil could see, the pawns had been driven off, the other horse long gone. That didn't make his situation any better. Clearly, he was in the presence of people far more powerful than his previous attackers.

Behind him, the person sighed. “He's injured,” they pointed out.

“He's stopped,” said the one in front of him.

“Let me leave,” said Neil quickly, turning his head so the one behind could hear him better. He had the feeling that that person would be more likely to listen to him. “I'll be out of your kingdom before you can blink.”

“You think we're just going to let a troublemaker like you run away?” said the person in front of him.

“I wasn't making any trouble,” Neil protested.

“Really? And who led those pawns into our kingdom?”

“That- I wasn't trying to bring them here!”

“Andrew, stop,” said the person behind Neil. “We need to get him to a doctor.”

“We need to lock him in the dungeons,” Andrew retorted. He was clearly unamused.

“Andrew,” said the other person again.

“He's dangerous,” Andrew told them. “You saw that magic.”

Neil felt his heart sink. No-one would have believed what the pawns had to say about him, or cared what they had to say in the first place. But these two were far more powerful. “I'm not anything important. I'm nothing but a citizen of another kingdom, real-” Neil said.

The man called Andrew lurched forward and grabbed hold of Neil's coat. His movement knocked his hood back and Neil was able to see the light hair and bored expression. The darkness hid every other feature. “Why should I believe you?” Andrew demanded.

Finding Andrew's shadowed eyes, Neil looked right into them and said, “Because I'll be gone as soon as you let me, and you won't have to worry about what will follow me here.”

“We will,” said the person behind Neil. “They'll come here searching for you.”

“Not if you make a big scene of chasing me out.” Neil turned his head to look over his shoulder. “They'll go around kingdoms with knights and queens that will oppose them. They're not trained enough to take on that sort of thing.”

“Then go,” said Andrew, letting go of Neil's coat. He swayed back, the pain in his shoulder starting to throb insistently.

“No,” said the person behind Neil. Surprised, Neil twisted to look at the cloaked figure, his posture perfectly straight. “We can't make this decision, Andrew. We need to take him to King David.”

“Why? What's the point? He won't be here come morning.”

“He could be useful.”

“No,” said Neil, suddenly aware that the person behind him was only looking at him as a potential queen. “I won't stay.”

There was a silence while Andrew seemed to consider their options. The rain let up. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Another flash of light made Andrew's dark eyes visible for just a moment. Finally, he said, “Abby will fix your wound. You can either come with us willingly or we can arrest you.”

“I don't-”

“Do you really think,” the person behind him said, “that you'll be able to fight, however badly, with that wound?”

“I-” Neil stopped. Whoever they were made a valid point. With the rain still falling, it might be hard to bandage his arm with one hand with all his medical supplies – what was left of them – slipping from his numb fingers. And he didn't want to stop somewhere they would ask questions, which would happen if he found a healer in a village. Gossip spread quickly in small settlements. Maybe if he was allowed to see a healer who dealt with knights on a regular basis, there would be less information leaked to the kingdom of Baltimore. “Fine. I'll follow your lead.”

“No,” said Andrew. “Your horse is exhausted. You'll ride with Kevin.”

“Why me?” Kevin demanded.

“He's _ your _damsel in distress,” Andrew said, dismissively.

Kevin snorted, but didn't protest further. Neil thought about making a comment, but decided against it, carefully dismounting instead. He hid his wince as it pulled on the wound, the knife still lodged there shifting. When he managed to reach Kevin's horse, however, Neil had to stop and take a few breaths. The pain was making dark spots blot his vision and his breathing was laboured.

Thankfully, Kevin reached out and helped pull Neil onto the horse so that he was seated in front of Kevin. It was probably a security measure; Kevin would easily be able to take control of both Neil and the horse if he needed to. Neil had barely settled when Kevin urged his horse into motion. The sudden motion made Neil slouch, trying to keep his balance without reins or a saddle. Each long stride of the horse made his wound throb, the pain increasing as Neil's adrenaline faded.

“Where are we?” Neil eventually asked Kevin, well aware that Andrew was keeping pace and watching him.

“You don't know where you are?” Kevin said. His scornful tone grated on Neil's nerves. “This is the kingdom of Palmetto.”

Which explained a lot, Neil figured.

* * *

At some point in the dark and rain and pain, Neil passed out. When he came to, he was in a room that could only be found in a castle. Alarmed, he shot upright and immediately regretted it when his shoulder twinged. He gasped and looked around, fearing that he would see the king and queen of Baltimore.

Instead, the room was empty. The huge stone walls were covered in orange and white tapestries. Those in orange were bright and minimal in details. Meanwhile, the white had scenes and floral designs depicted with orange thread. Neil dismissed the content as unimportant. A fire flickered in the fireplace. In front of it sat a table and an assortment of comfortable chairs, one of which nestled his saddlebags and sword. Upon the table was a bowl of fruit and, beside that, a plate full of sandwiches and a pitcher of what Neil assumed was water. The sheets he lay upon were made of silk and followed the orange and white theme. Candles had been left unlit; sunlight streamed through the windows to light Neil's way to the door.

He had barely swung his feet off the bed when the door swung open. Neil froze, looking up at the two people who came into the room. One of them was a middle-aged man who wore nothing but a shirt and trousers. The thin sleeves were pushed up to his elbows revealing tattoos of flames. His hair was cut so short that Neil couldn't tell what colour it was. Next to him was a woman who was wearing a worried expression; that was probably to do with the bandage that Neil could feel under his loose shirt. Her dark hair was piled up in a complicated hairdo, though it was fast falling apart. The dress she wore was both elegant and practical, with no fancy frills to get in her way. She held a vial in one hand.

“Ah, you're up,” said the man. His voice was deep and rough and Neil eyed him warily. “What's your name, kid?”

“Neil,” he replied, hoping that he wouldn't be recognised. There was no point in disguising himself; those knights would have seen him while he was unconscious, as would whoever had bandaged him. The fact that someone had seen his scars made him feel uneasy.

“Well, Neil, welcome to my court,” said the man. “I'm David, the king of this place. This is my queen, Abigail.”

“Hello, Neil,” said the woman, smiling at him. That unnerved Neil, too. “You can call me Abby, if you like.”

“He can call you 'Your Majesty',” King David said to her. She rolled her eyes in a good-natured way.

“I-” Neil glanced between them, unsure why a king and a queen were visiting him – unless they knew of his powers and his status. “Someone fixed me up?”

“Yes,” said Queen Abigail. “I did. Andrew's aim was true, so you should not suffer too much damage. You'll be able to move it in a few weeks.”

“Thank you,” said Neil, rather perplexed as to a queen being a healer. That wasn't a queen's role.

“So,” King David interjected, “my knights tell me that you were being chased by pawns. Why would that be?”

Quickly, Neil fabricated something that would, hopefully, sound truthful. “I upset them in the last town we were in. A tavern brawl got out of hand.” Not necessarily a lie, since that had been what happened, in a way. Hopefully stretching the truth would quell any further questions.

“Sure,” said King David, his tone disbelieving.

“If you give me a horse, I can leave here before anything else happens,” Neil offered. Even if they didn't, he could steal one anyway.

“Hm, don't think so, kid,” King David said, almost off-handedly. “You're staying here.”

Neil tensed and quickly glanced around the room, taking in the possible exits. The door, the windows, the sheets could be used to make a rope if needed... “Why?” he demanded. “I haven't done anything wrong. This isn't exactly a dungeon, either.”

“What do you know about Palmetto?”

The question came out of nowhere and left Neil staring for a moment. “I... Well, that there's good farmland and that everyone wants it but they- _ you're _ capable of fending off invaders. And the court is made of rejects.”

If King David thought that he was being rude, he didn't say anything. Instead, he nodded. “Yeah, sounds about right. But what people don't know is that most of the court is made up of people who were running from other kingdoms, from their past, from something ugly. They all ended up here and I made them part of my court. You can do the same – I could use another knight.”

Silence fell. Neil stared. Was this man really offering someone who had brought violent pawns into his kingdom a place to stay? Did he not realise that Neil was running from something bigger than this entire country? What was he supposed to say to this offer?

“You don't need to answer just now,” Queen Abigail said, stepping forward with another of her kind smiles. “Your injury will be fine with rest, so I suggest you stay here for at least a week before you ride out anywhere.”

“So you have a week to say yes,” King David said. “I'll leave you to it.” And, with that, he left Neil in Queen Abigail's care, bewildered and too tired to protest.


	2. One Step Aside

Neil didn’t know what to do with himself. Despite his best efforts, Queen Abigail had insisted that he stay in bed for at least a day. Being as tired as Neil was, he had found himself doing as he was told. It might have had something to do with the relaxed yet regal air that Queen Abigail carried herself with, or it might have been the fact that Queen Abigail reminded him of his mother’s death that he had yet to grieve for properly. He even considered the possibility of it being a compelling spell, but his magical checks came up clean. 

His most immediate concern, though, was his hair and eye colour. Since his mother’s death, he had somewhat lost track of days, especially the last few that had merged together during his frantic escape. Nervously, he touched his head, and wondered if there was a mirror nearby. A cursory glance came up empty, but, after listening carefully for anyone’s approach, Neil slipped from the bed, grimaced at the nightclothes he had been put in, and made his way over to the walls, pulling tapestries aside. The only semblance of a mirror was useless, hopelessly cracked and mostly missing. When Neil looked closer, he found that there was a spot of dried blood on a piece of the glass.

Giving up, he went back to bed, laid down, and had a nap. After all of the stress and fatigue of the days before, not to mention his wound, he was exhausted enough to sleep through till night had plunged the world into darkness. When he woke, he was disoriented and frowned around at the room he was in. Panic teased at his sleepiness, but his mind caught up to events and he was able to suppress it. He was safe - for now.

Squinting into the darkness, Neil realised that someone had lit a few candles. Three of them flickered on the table, their light the only way to see the room, though the shadows concealed too much. The fire had died down; clearly, King David and Queen Abigail had decided not to disturb him. It was almost peaceful and Neil was tempted to close his eyes and rest until morning when he would insist on leaving, but the shadow of a person in one of the chairs stopped him.

Eyes widening, Neil went as still as possible to stop himself from jerking upright. Taking a deep breath through his nose, Neil steeled himself to find his father’s knights waiting for him. Slowly, he pushed himself upright, trying not to wince as he pulled on his wound. Whoever was in the chair didn’t react, didn’t move, and that unnerved Neil. Just who was sitting there? Was this a dream?

“He wakes,” said the figure. Neil tried not to react when he realised who it was. 

“Why are you here?” Neil demanded.

The figure leaned forward to put his elbows on his knees. It drew him into the light, the familiar blond hair and bored expression in sharp relief while his eyes were once again in shadows. “Kevin doesn’t care who you are or which piece you should be. He only wants to build up Palmetto’s defence. We’ve already got extra pieces.”

Neil blinked at him. He couldn’t work out why Andrew was telling him this and it certainly didn’t answer his question. It gave him more, and he suspected that Andrew was waiting for him to ask them. Instead, Neil said, “Smart.”

“Tedious,” Andrew retorted.

“Why?” Neil asked, unable to decide whether Andrew was being sincere or contrary.

Andrew waved his question away. “We don’t need another spare piece acting as a knight.”

“Is that what you are? A spare piece?”

Instead of answering, Andrew merely watched him, his gaze taking in the whole of Neil. “You are going to leave.”

Frowning, Neil said, just to have the semblance of a choice, “I haven’t decided yet.”

“This is me making the decision for you.” Andrew stood, his shadow contorting and reaching out to the bed. “I’ll make it easy for you. After the king and queen have forced breakfast on you, they will leave to prepare for an unwanted guest. The rest of the court and the extras will not be paying attention to an injured traveller. That’s your chance to leave.”

Neil lifted his gaze to where he thought Arthur’s eyes might be. “They’ll notice me saddling the horse. It would be better to wait until they give me one or until their guests have settled in.”

“It will already be saddled. There will be no stablehands. Flee.”

Andrew turned to leave, but Neil wasn’t finished with him yet. “Won’t they be angry?” he asked. “That you’ve gone against the ruling pieces? They want me to wait. I have every right to be here.”

Having paused a few steps from the chair, Andrew turned his head towards Neil, but otherwise didn’t move. “You should be worrying about yourself and the king who’s pursuing you.”

Thankful that Andrew couldn’t really see him in the dark, Neil winced. He tried not to think of his father and what would happen once he’d left Palmetto. By the time he had recovered his wits enough to say anything, Andrew had left, and Neil had nothing to do but curl under the blanket and wonder if his escape would go smoother than the last time he had had to leave a castle.

* * *

Since it seemed as though he was actually going to leave in the morning, Neil decided to get all the rest he could. Once he’d slid from the bed to poke the fire back to life, he curled up under the blanket and tried not to think of his mother and her blood. He listened to the sounds of servants wandering to and fro as well as the pawns that were patrolling the grounds, each one making him think that someone was about to burst into the room and grab him. Thankfully, that didn’t happen, but it left him sleepless and he watched the dawn spill light over the sill.

Feeling antsy, Neil had just decided to leave before breakfast - that would keep Andrew happy, he supposed - when footsteps stopped right outside the door. He grimaced and watched the door creep open. Whoever was on the other side was obviously trying to be considerate of him in case he was still sleeping. That meant that it was probably not Andrew, and Neil felt a sense of relief at never having to deal with the man again.

Messy, black hair peeked around the door before the stranger’s eyes peered into the room. Judging from where his head was, the man was taller than Neil by about a head or so. He spotted Neil looking and, with a grin, he pushed the door wider and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Neil had been expecting armour, a pawn or a knight. Maybe even a bishop. Instead, the man was wearing rich clothes: a bright orange tunic with a fox emblem, tight trousers, tall boots with a tiny heel to make him even taller. He was also wearing a circlet, a plain piece of metal that nevertheless dubbed him as the next king.

“Good morning!” said the man, much more cheerfully than all the other people Neil had thus far met in Palmetto. “Abby sent me in with some food.”

“Thank you,” said Neil, looking down at what the man had in his hands. There was a bowl of something hot (he could see the steam drifting up from it) and a hunk of fresh bread that Neil could smell from where he sat. His stomach grumbled and he dropped his gaze in embarrassment. 

“No need to thank me,” the man replied, his grin widening. “I’m Matthew, though most people call me Matt. I’ll be the king once David retires. It’s nice to see a new face around here.”

Neil almost asked if that discounted the visitors they were apparently receiving, but he remembered that Andrew had probably not informed anyone that he was ushering Neil out of the door. Instead, he said, “Should I get up and bow?”

“What? No, no!” said Matt, hastily. Quickly, he moved over to Neil’s bedside and handed over the food. “We don’t really go in for that here.”

With a baffled look, Neil took the offering and looked down at the piping hot porridge. “Really?” he asked, remembering how his father’s court had worked.

“Yeah! David says that it’s the best way to run a kingdom. You know, make sure everyone is well and looked after, and they’ll work harder for you. And, of course, they’ll be more loyal. Oh, here’s your spoon.”

With a weak smile, Neil took it and stuck it into his food. “Sounds nice,” he said for lack of anything else to comment on.

“So, what kingdom did you come from?” Matt asked. 

The question was an innocuous one, but it still made Neil still for a mere moment. He fought to keep his expression blank, as if where he came from was of no consequence in the grand scheme of things. “I came from the Aliantan kingdom,” he lied. It was a kingdom by the sea which would explain the direction he had come from and, if they ever did any digging, would explain why he had supposedly travelled through his own kingdom. With it being far enough away, though, Neil doubted they would try to verify his story. 

“So what are you doing way out here?” Matt asked.

“I was selling fresh fish,” Neil quickly replied. “I may not be in the court, but I have just enough magic to keep the fish from rotting as I travel. I had just finished selling my stock when I came across this band of pawns that were treating the people in the tavern like dirt. I made a quiet comment and they chased me. I’m glad your knights were patrolling or I might have been killed.”

“That sounds horrible,” Matt said with a pained look at Neil. “Sorry Andrew hurt you. He’s a bit… you know.” Matt made some sort of gesture that made Neil stare at his hands in confusion.

“No,” Neil said, raising his eyes to Matt’s face. 

After a moment of Neil waiting for an explanation, Matt blinked and gave Neil a disbelieving look. “Well, he’s a bit… uncontrollable,” Matt finally said, rather generously, Neil thought.

“Yes,” Neil agreed. 

Matt grimaced, paused for a while as if he was waiting for Neil to say something else, and then changed the subject. “I heard from Kevin that you’d be a good knight,” Matt said, apparently getting to the true point of the conversation. “You held your own against a group of pawns - that’s impressive.”

“Not really,” said Neil, quickly. He had to disabuse Matt of the belief that he would make a good member of Palmetto’s court. “There are all sorts of dangers on the road and I have been trained by my parents to take care of myself. It wasn’t that hard.”

“Andrew mentioned that they were Baltim pawns, though,” Matt pointed out. “Those guys are the worst.”

“They are?” Neil said. The Aliantan kingdom was on good terms with its neighbours and Baltim was a prominent trading partner. When Neil had travelled there with his mother, he had noted that the citizens all believed the best of the Baltims, that they believed they were kind and helpful neighbours. Baltim and its court didn’t let them see their true colours. 

It was different within its own kingdom and the internal kingdoms that the continent held. 

“Don’t you know?” said Matt in surprise, apparently unaware of the intricacies of the Baltim-Aliantan alliance.

“Know what?”

“Wow,” Matt said with a whistle. “You’ve got it really good out in Aliantan, huh?”

“I live on the coast,” Neil explained, trying not to think of the time he had been there with his mother not so long ago. “It’s far removed from Baltim. They trade with us. Is there something wrong with Baltim that Aliantan should know about?”

Matt grimaced again and shifted uncomfortably. “Well, I-” 

They were interrupted by a quiet knock at the door. Both of them looked over as it opened and a young woman not much older than Neil entered. Her pale hair was done up in a complicated bun, with a modest tiara to indicate her status as the next queen. The pale green dress she was wearing was also modest with hardly any frills. Golden embroidery depicted roses and their thorns, the only indication that the dress was expensive. Pink lips wore a serene smile which was directed at both Neil and Matt, her hands clasped in front of her. 

“I am sorry to interrupt,” she said. “However, King David is wondering where you are, Matt.”

“Oh, damn,” said Matt, leaping to his feet. “He’ll need my help with…” He pulled a dissatisfied face and waved his hand, rolling it at the wrist. Turning to Neil, he smiled brightly at him. “It’s been fun talking to you,” he said, inexplicably. “Hope we can hang out more later. I’ll leave you in the capable hands of my future queen, Renee.”

“Hello, Neil,” said the queen. “However, Abby needs my help, I’m afraid, so I’ll have to find someone else to keep you company.”

“It’s fine,” said Neil, quickly. “You sound like you’re busy. I’ll be fine on my own for a few hours.”

“Still, I might send Nicky in,” said Matt. “He likes to talk. He’s one of our rooks, by the way. Not sure how he got that when he makes so much noise…”

Neil raised a bemused eyebrow. Rooks were almost like spies, particularly on the battlefield. When they weren’t sneaking into the enemy camp to find out how the opposing army were planning to attack, they were shoring up the defences in the palace or helping with the courts’ numerous projects. The rooks in his father’s court had been horrible people who killed whoever gave them any information whatsoever. He couldn’t imagine any of them being overly friendly with their targets.

“Honestly, you don’t have to,” said Neil, well aware that Andrew would likely make a reappearance if he didn’t leave soon. “I think I’ll just nap after I’ve eaten all this. I was on the road for quite some time and I’m exhausted.”

“Ah. Yes, of course,” said Matt with a sheepish grin. “We’ll let you rest. Get better soon.”

Neil nodded and watched Renee incline her head, that sickly sweet smile still in place. Matt waved as he went out the door, apparently under the impression that he’d return to his bedside later. Finally, the door clicked shut and Neil let out a sigh of relief, ducking his head to stare at his cooling porridge. It was strange to receive such kindness, after everything he’d been through. He would have liked to have stayed for a little longer, to hide among the townspeople until his father caught up and he had to run again. But he couldn’t reward this kindness with the danger that followed him. 

Now all he needed to do was put some food in him and slip away.

* * *

It turned out that moving through the castle was ridiculously easy. Neil wasn’t sure if Andrew had done something to make it easier for him to steal away or if everyone was busy making preparations for their guests, but he didn’t see anyone on the floor he had found himself on. Once he’d slipped into the hall, Neil used the shadows and the heavy tapestries depicting foxes and hunts to hide within. Then, once he’d gotten far enough away from the room, he grabbed a vase full of flowers and began to walk in the middle of the hall with purpose to his gait. Any servant he passed ignored him completely, too focussed on their own work to notice the newcomer in their midst.

Finally, he found what he was looking for: the servants’ stairs. People came and went, uncaring whether any of the court would see them. In his father’s court, all servants who were seen were punished.  _ “They should be able to do their jobs without their presence being noticed.” _ Lola had told him that nugget of wisdom as she demonstrated why being seen was a bad idea and why it was a worse idea to try to help Neil sneak out to have some fun in the capital city. He shoved those memories aside. They wouldn’t help him get downstairs and closer to his departure.

Thankfully, no-one stopped him from making his way down them. It wasn’t long before he reached the kitchen. Unfortunately, the vase wouldn’t help him any longer; it would look suspicious to be carrying a vase through the halls where servants were the only ones to pass by. The hallways here were plain and someone carrying something so ornate would stand out. So he sat it on a table by the door and ducked into the kitchen itself to grab something to carry. He settled on a jug full of some drink. It smelled sweet and was a pink colour. Neil had no idea what it could be, but it allowed him to pass by more of the servants who evidently thought that he was carrying the jug up to the receiving hall or throne room, whichever one the court was meeting their guests.

Since he didn’t know the layout of this particular palace and its grounds, Neil decided that the best way to get to the stables was to proceed to the entrance hall, abandon the jug and hold his hand in such a way that it looked as though he was holding a message. Then he could get out of the door and down to the stables. With Andrew’s help, he supposed that he would be able to get past the pawns and the gate without any trouble. Once he was free, he’d be able to flee, to get out of Palmetto before the Baltim court figured out where he was going to emerge.

He was halfway across the entrance hall, however, when someone came out of what he could only assume was the throne room. It wasn’t anyone he’d seen before, with his smooth brown skin and his curly black hair. He wore a cheerful smile like a badge of honour. In fact, he was also wearing a badge of honour: he was in official clothes, the normal black of a rook with a rook’s brooch - a fox curled around it to denote his court - holding his official cape around his shoulders. His entire outfit beyond the cape was tight, accentuating his ass and broad chest. As soon as the man opened his mouth, Neil realised that this had to be Nicky.

“Oh, hello!” Nicky said, cheerfully. “You must be Neil. I saw Andrew bring you in.” He paused and blinked at the jug that Neil had yet to put down. “What have you got there?”

“I just thought I’d help out, since you’re being so kind to me,” Neil quickly said, looking around for somewhere to place the jug, letting it sag in his arms to show how heavy it was. His efforts had the desired effect: Nicky took the jug from him with a bright smile. “You seem to be busy,” Neil added, to further his meagre explanation.

“Aww,” said Nicky. He handed the jug to a servant who was exiting the same room he had come from. The man looked surprised but smiled sweetly at Nicky and turned to reenter the room with his new load. Nicky turned back to Neil, his grin still in place. “You’re super sweet, Neil. But you really don’t have to. How about you come in?”

“What?” said Neil, flatly. But Nicky didn’t bother with an answer, already ushering Neil in with a hand at the small of his back.

“Well, you’re our guest, too,” Nicky explained. “We can have a bit of a party.”

As Nicky opened the door, Neil said, “I thought your guests were… unwelcome?”

Nicky paused and looked at him. “Who told you that?”

Neil grimaced. “I… overheard the servants discussing it.”

“Hm. Well, they’re not wrong. But Kevin says you’ll be a knight so I expect no-one will mind you being here. Come on.”

They entered the throne room. At one end of the large space, orange-tipped thrones were lined up along a set of stairs. The king and queen’s thrones were at the top and Neil presumed the rest of the court’s were the ones that were staggered on platforms down the stairs. An impressive chandelier hung above them, candles casting an orange glow on the white marble of the room. Instead of the tapestries from the rest of the palace, there were several carvings on reliefs and half pillars. Neil managed to make out dragons and knights and other pieces of the court, fighting or communing with various creatures. One was prominent in the scenes: a fox or a person with foxes’ tails presiding over the frozen court. Tables and small cabinets lined the edges of the room upon which were vases full of flowers and jugs full of drinks and bowls full of food. The sweet smell of cooked desserts reached Neil along with the enticing scent of fresh bread and spices. Opposite the thrones were a set of floor to ceiling windows that let in what sunshine there was; the day was cloudy and Neil suspected that he would be rained on if he left any time soon.

A large table had been set up in the middle of the room and the rest of the court surrounded it. Neil realised that they were poring over a map and wondered what was happening. Was Palmetto going to war? He would definitely have to leave before that happened. If he got caught up in a battle, there would be disastrous consequences for all involved. 

“Hey, guys,” said Nicky, awfully familiar for someone of such a low rank. There was no reprimand but the rest of the court turned to look at him - and, by extension, Neil. “Look who I found.”

With a supreme effort, Neil kept his face blank as he cast his eyes over the gathering. The king and queen were there what appeared to be a bespectacled doctor, for some reason. She seemed too well-meaning for Neil’s liking, what with the encouraging smile she was wearing. Everyone else was far younger than them, around Neil’s age rather than theirs. Matt and Renee were there, along with Andrew who caught his gaze for a moment with suspicious eyes. A blonde noblewoman in a grand dress stood next to a knight with a fierce scowl. Another woman wearing armour stood close to Matt, her hand resting on her sword. At the opposite end of the table from Andrew was a man who looked a lot like him, if it wasn’t for the deep frown he wore, just as natural as the navy clothes that complimented Nicky’s. Aside from all of that, the most interesting thing in the room was Kevin who was standing in the middle of the table and looked pale and drawn. His chest was heaving and Neil recognised the telltale signs of panic.

“What are you doing out of bed, Neil?” Queen Abigail exclaimed. “You should be resting.”

“Then I probably shouldn’t mention that he was carrying a heavy jug,” Nicky said, with a mischievous grin. He shrugged when Queen Abigail gave him a horrified look.

“I… I was only trying to help,” Neil reiterated. “If you’re busy in here, I can go back to my room. I remember the way.”

“Oh, come on,” said Nicky, wrapping an arm around Neil’s waist and jostling him in a misplaced show of solidarity. “Come join the party!”

“It’s not a party, Hemmick,” said King David, gruffly. “Get your arse back here.”

Neil blinked at them. “What…  _ is _ happening?” he asked. “Are you going to war?”

“It’s interesting that you immediately thought of that,” said Andrew, glibly. 

“Wha-?” Neil began but he was interrupted by the door opening behind him and Nicky.

“Your Majesty!” exclaimed a harried servant who rushed by Neil, almost knocking him over in their haste. “They’re here! They’re in the courtyard!”

King David cursed under his breath and grabbed the map, pulling it off the table rather like a servant pulling off a tablecloth. “Get rid of the table,” he ordered. “Nicky, get in your place. That goes for the rest of you. And no throwing any knives,” he added in Andrew’s general direction.

The court was suddenly in motion, everyone moving to and fro. Both the woman in armour and the one in rich clothes kept close to Matt and Renee and Neil realised that they must be the bishops, the last line of defence for the king and queen: their bodyguards. To see the bishops protecting the  _ future _ king and queen was strange, but it made sense in this court of equals. The man who looked a lot like Andrew seemed to disappear for a moment, merging with the shadows. It was a waste of power, Neil thought, since he reappeared a moment later by his own throne. 

Meanwhile, King David moved towards Neil while he wondered whether to leave or not. Before Neil could react, King David stopped a few feet in front of him. The older man gave Neil a considering look and Neil tried not to give away how uncomfortable he was, his face as blank as he could make it and his body as still as possible. Then King David said, “It won’t be a good idea to leave right now, not with them here. So stay, for now. Keep out of their way.”

“Whose way?” Neil asked, his heart beating so hard he was sure it could be heard several kingdoms away. 

“The rising court of Edgal,” King David replied, and stopped Neil’s heart.

There was no way that Neil could stay where the court of Edgal could just waltz in. He had to leave, had to get away. But King David was also correct - if Neil so much as stepped outside of this palace while they were here, he would be hunted down and brought back to the king. So, trying to appear calm, Neil said, “I’ll keep out of the way. I’ll just go back to my room.”

“Good idea-” King David began, just as the doors were thrown open. 

Neil barely had time to get out of the way as a procession of pawns streamed through. He stepped back and hid in the shadows of one of the columns, watching them enter. King David had to turn from Neil and take long strides to reach his throne in time for the main guests. Neil swallowed as he watched the river of black and red pour in and move out to cover the floor. Then the court stalked through, heads held high so they could look down their noses at everyone, even their own pawns. Finally, the king and queen entered, dressed entirely in black in an attempt to intimidate the court of Palmetto.

It was the first time Neil had seen King Riko for several years.

Thankfully, Riko’s focus was on Palmetto’s court and not the young man who probably looked like a servant to him. Neil took careful steps backwards, moving further into the shadows. He was careful not to use his magic to redirect the Edgalans’ attention; Riko would probably notice his magic and turn his horrible attention on Neil. 

Wondering why the Edgalans were here, Neil paid attention as Riko and his new queen stopped in front of the king and queen of Palmetto. They both bowed, the queen looking as blank-faced as Neil hoped he was, though he had the feeling that his fear was showing around his eyes. When they straightened, Riko swept an arm at the court in front of them.

“Such a regal display,” he commented. “Even the extra pieces have turned up to greet us.”

His words indicated just how strange it was to see a full court on the first day of a royal visit, especially when the future king and queen and Kevin were standing by their respective thrones instead of sitting on ones of their own. Most courts would only have half the court turn up to greet a royal entourage. Neil’s mother had frequently been away when his father had visitors and their rooks came and went as they pleased. That was probably why Lola popping up was always so unnerving - at least, before she became queen to fill his mother’s place. Neil imagined it would be worse now to see her before him. He was grateful that it was just Riko that he had to keep calm in front of.

“It is a rare day that we are all in one place,” King David agreed. “And then we heard that you were bringing your entire court to our palace - without prior arrangement. You can imagine our surprise.”

“I thought that I should introduce my neighbours to my queen. Jean, will you give our hosts a gift?”

The queen nodded and held out his hands. They began to glow with a golden light, something Neil hadn’t expected to see in the Edgal court; usually their magic was a thick red. He watched, able to see through the light where the knights and rooks and bishops and pawns couldn’t. Not even the kings could see what was happening. What Neil saw was Jean shaping an elegant hourglass from nothing, the glass clear and pretty. The sand within was coloured and he turned it, letting the sand fall completely before he crushed the device and formed something from metal instead. It took Neil a moment to realise that it was a beautiful, sharp dagger. With a swipe of his hand, Jean turned the silvery metal to black, a large ruby taking up most of the hilt. An impractical weapon with a sinister message behind it. When he was finished, Jean’s magic abated and the glow disappeared. He stepped forward to present it to King David and bowed, his hands stretched out.

“It’s impressive,” said King David, letting the woman in armour step forward to pluck the ‘present’ from the queen’s hands. Queen Abigail, meanwhile, leaned over to speak into King David’s ear. When she sat back, neither of them changed their demeanour, though Neil was sure that they were well aware of the threat to their kingdom.

“Indeed it is,” said Riko. “Though I would have given you a new sword if I had had my proper queen. Or, perhaps, even the first replacement. I hear that he was just as powerful as his mother.”

Neil was distracted from his own reaction to that news by Kevin’s grimace. It smoothed out a moment later and he shifted a little so that the throne he stood behind - Andrew’s - obscured him a little more. Andrew must have noticed his movement but he didn’t take his eyes from Riko, as if he expected Riko to attack. 

“Still,” said King David, “your current queen is very talented. I am sure he will serve you well.”

“Of course he will,” said Riko, dismissively.

“We shall arrange to have a ball in his honour this very night,” said Queen Abigail with a genial smile. It was strained at the edges and her eyes had a hard glint, but she still seemed welcoming - and less dangerous than Renee at her side. Something about the future queen’s smile made Neil want to run.

“I am afraid we have no time for that,” said Riko, dismissively. An insult to the Palmetto court. Matt leaned forward at King David’s side; the woman in armour shifted and Matt straightened, though his scowl was clearly visible. “We have much to do and will only be able to stay for a meal, or until our horses are ready.”

“Speaking of which,” said Jean, his words a drawl. “We saw a horse saddled and ready to be ridden. A good horse, one that would be fast and travel far. Why is that?”

King David frowned. “I don’t know what you’re insinuating-”

“I intended,” Andrew interrupted them, expression blank, “to go for a ride. Kevin found me before I could leave and would have come with me had you not interrupted us.”

Riko’s gaze fell on Andrew, his expression just short of livid. “Are you sure it was not to call for aid?”

“Even if you couldn’t beat us even  _ with _ the help of another country,” said one of the Edgalan rooks.

“I’m sure we could hold our own,” said the woman in armour, her voice carrying clearly over the top of the Edgalan snickers. 

“No-one is unbeatable,” added Renee. There was something wrong with her face that made Neil want to back further into the shadows and away from impending doom.

“We are,” said Jean, shortly, dismissively.

“We’ve got more in our court than you,” Nicky protested, shifting forward to the edge of his seat with a frown.

“Ah, yes,” said Riko in a tone that told Neil that Nicky’s statement had been a mistake. “Speaking of which, I would rather you returned what you stole from me. After all, Jean should be in his rightful position, not acting as my queen.” There was a tense pause as Riko looked over them all. Then he turned his head and looked straight at the half-hidden knight. “Kevin,” he said, holding out his hand. “You are not meant to be a knight. Come home with me.”


End file.
